


scw 4 - undercover

by bonebo



Series: Shimadacest Week '17 [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Gore, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:38:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: "I dunno, anija..."





	

“I dunno, anija.”

Genji’s clawed shoes click lightly against the hardwood floor he walks on as he prowls the office of the rival gang’s boss, one finger over the communicator nestled in his ear. He pauses in his stalking to crouch by the nearest bloodstained corpse, and jerks one of the arrows free from its shoulder--six more bristle from the man’s back, and Genji gives a low whistle, shaking his head as he rolls the arrow between his fingertips. The strong overhead light glints off the prongs of the sharp, bloodied tip.

“Don’t you think that maybe, just _maybe_ , the six scatter arrows in this one room was a bit too much?”

Hanzo huffs in his ear, impatient and unamused as Genji straightens up again. A quick look around reminds him again of Hanzo’s work--the dozen bloody bodies strewn around the room had been no challenge, and certainly hadn’t deserved a scatter arrow apiece. It’s almost amusing; Genji knows Hanzo isn’t one to normally waste his ammo so needlessly.

But then again, this hadn’t been a normal scenario.

 _“The gang leader had his blade held at your throat, Genji.”_ Even over the comm-unit, Hanzo’s irritation is clear, almost palpable. _“I did what I had to do to ensure success.”_

Genji grins as he drops the arrow, recalling the events--it had been his own fault, really. He had gotten so caught up in his act, playing the part of the high-dollar whore swooning at the big, strong men who’d purchased his company for the night, that he hadn’t noticed when his cover was blown. If it hadn’t been for Hanzo’s quick action, his vigilance, then Genji really would be dead; he mulls over the realization as he continues over to snatch the boss’s laptop off his desk.

He knows Hanzo’s flustered by the close call, irritated at what Genji’s negligence made him do; but Genji’s able to read the underlying message in his brother’s words all the same.

_I panicked._

His cargo in hand, Genji returns to the window--peers across the alley at Hanzo, leaning on the sill of the window of the abandoned warehouse he’d been shooting from. Genji waggles his fingers at him cheekily.

“Concerned is a nice look for you, anija,” he comments as he steps up onto the windowsill, and Hanzo’s scandalized look is priceless. But then it changes, his eyes widening as he jerks Stormbow up, and he has an arrow notched before Genji has time to look shocked--

Not that it matters. Because in the next heartbeat there’s a white-hot pain in his gut, and he stares down disbelievingly at the blade that juts almost comically from his abdomen; cutting through thin layers of green silk and thick-built muscle to expose itself bloody and gleaming in the humid night air. He hears the thunk of an arrow meeting skull like it’s miles away, and the thud of his attacker’s body hitting the ground behind him is what jars him from his trance, makes him slowly lift his gaze across the alley again.

Hanzo is staring at him, eyes wide and horrified, and it’s the most emotion Genji can remember seeing on his brother’s face in years.

He tries to memorize it as he falls--the curve of Hanzo’s lips, the bright shine to his eyes, the way his bangs frame the hard lines of his face in inky dark softness. Hanzo’s voice, murmuring in his ear and whispering to him late at night; his touch, sparking warmth and fire under his skin wherever they came into contact.

Hanzo, Hanzo, Hanzo.

He’s the only thing on Genji’s mind when he finally hits the ground.


End file.
